Now the cormorant has had a fish, it needs to dry its feathers. So it’s time to get back to standing out of the water, on the fallen bough again. Spread the wings out and flap them slowly to expose all the feathers to the breeze. Shuffle round to face a different direction. That airs the plumage more evenly, and lets the bird watch out for any signs of fresh fish. Soon the feathers will be dry enough, time for the hunt to resume.
To be continued …
Flowers and flower buds on a Japanese quince shrub. Getting in really close emphasises just how vivid the red of the scarlet petals is.
The cormorant which is sometimes visiting West Park lake, busy fishing.
It perches on a fallen bough, carefully watching the water for a fish it thinks it can catch. At the same time, it keeps a wary eye out to check that I am not a threat. But the focus is on scanning the water for a potential victim.
Prey spotted, and it’s off, under the water before I can catch it moving. Up it bobs again, a large fish grasped in its beak.
The neck twists, thrashing the fish, which is dropped in the water once or twice. Finally, the bird gets hold in what is possibly just the way it wants, and the fish is swallowed whole. It disappeared down a neck which looked narrow than it was.
Now the cormorant swam up and down a short stretch of water by the bough which had formed its perch.
To be continued …
Flower buds beginning to open on another garden camelia. This time it’s a bush with pink flowers.
Ring-necked parakeets have been established in Wolverhampton for some years now, nesting in the Tettenhall ridge / Smestow valley area. Nearer the city centre I’ve heard them quite often in West Park, glimpsed them there very occasionally, and sometimes seen them flying over the streets nearby.
A few years ago, a pair investigated a hole in the trunk of one of the trees on the island in West Park lake, and seemed to have decided to nest there. A few days later, a gale blew down the tree. Parakeet presence in the park reverted to often heard, rarely seen.
Early in February, a parakeet was once again investigating a hole in a tree; a tree which happened to have been a near neighbour of the fallen one. Since then, almost every time I’ve been to the park, there’s been one or more parakeets visible. Sometimes it’s just been brief glimpses of them flying off because they spotted me first. Usually, as here, they have been high in a tree and more than half-hidden by the lower branches.
A small puddle in the middle, and other drops of water left on the petals of this garden primrose.
